Paul's Gift (699 words)

Paul ​​hurried ​ through the hospital corridors to meet​ his elder sister Stella. ​She was recovering after a major surgery​. The young boy was attached to his sister but never liked the sterile, unpleasant​ ​smell of ​the hospital. The family members took ​turns to be in the hospital. ​P​aul was required to spend ​two hours in the evening till his mom relieved him. He brought​ flowers, a couple of times​,​ for the vase by Stella's bed​ knowing how much the bright ​​flowers in vibrant colours lifted her spirits.​ Paul would ​​recount to her all the happenings in school and about her pet dog that had turned quiet and morose after she came to ​the hospital.​

​To reach, Stella's private cabin, he had​ to pass through a general ward. There ​were​ row​s of beds ​on either side fully occupied by patients with different ailments in different stages. Some ​​were hooked to IV drips or oxygen tubes, some with heavy bandages on their raised legs, some moaning in pain and many weak and drowsy. The nurses were always seen busy tending to some patients. During visiting time, the scene resembled a ​m​marketplace with visitors milling around each bed.

But amidst the​ ​noise and bustle, one bed always stood out to Paul. It was the only one without visitors. A young girl of 13 years lay with her head raised by lifting the head of the bed in a reclined manner. The girl, though wan and sickly in look​, was attractive. There was ​a certain sadness in her eyes ​as she looked lost and lonely. While Paul had an aversion ​to the sick ambience and rushed through the ward in a hurry, he used to linger ​by the girl's bed for a moment or more. One day to his surprise she smiled at him. Unsure of himself​, he smiled back at her and hastened to his sister's room. He parried his sister’s question when asked why he seemed happy.

The next day, as he crossed the ward, he​ could not resist ​​stopping at her bed and ​smiling. When she smiled back at him, he noticed a faint nod suggesting that he come near her. Paul went near and said “I am Paul. I come daily to visit my sister. I don't see anyone with you on any day​."

"Sophia is my name. I have no one. You are my first visitor" she said and giggled. The two tiny dimples on her cheeks enhanced her charm.

"Don't worry, you will have one daily ​​from now on" he said​ with a chuckle and added, “I must hurry. Will see you tomorrow"

And so, it became part of Paul​'s routine. Each day, he stopped by Sophi​a's bed before heading to Stell​a's room. He would share funny stories from school and updates about his sister​'s dog, making Sophia laugh. He never asked her about her details after she said she was from an orphanage. But this ​did not dampen his warmth for her, rather he spent more time with her impelling his sister to ask why he was late​ these days.

It was a Thursday and more than a fortnight since he bought flowers for the vase in the cabin. He bought ​with his pocket money a bunch of tulips in ​soft pink, ​vibrant yellow and ​delicate blue on the way to ​the hospital​. As he stopped by ​​Sophia's bed, she smiled and ​raised her eyebrows ​in surprise at the flowers​, though she did not ​s​say anything.

 It was on an impulse that Paul thrust the ​​bouquet into her hands.

"Is it a ​​Valentine’s gift on ​​Valentine’s Day?”​ she asked.” I am so happy as it is ​the first gift in my life. I am sorry I have nothing to give you except a warm handshake​," she said.

"Frankly I didn't know that today was special. But I am happy that I could be your Valentine and hope to be so always," he said and warmly shook her hands. Sophia gently wiped the tears of joy from her eyes. She was no longer a lonely soul and her eyes sparkled​ with hope and gratitude.

Happy Valentine’s Day! Remember, kindness is the best gift you can share today

The nomad's unfailing prediction (825 words)

Ramalingam was a worried man these days. The condition of his wife who was ailing with a serious heart complaint for some years had deteriorated suddenly. She had difficulty in breathing and was unable to exert even a little. The doctors had said that nothing could be done to arrest her progressively worsening condition and that she should just manage with medicines and rest as much as possible. Though the couple never spoke about it, they knew the end was not very far, maybe a year or two or even less. They were living alone in their flat with their sons living abroad. Ramalingam spent long hours daily praying to God to give her a long life. They were a loving couple and were averse to living with their sons in foreign countries.

It was one early morning around 5 am they heard a kudukudupandi (a gypsy like tribe) at some distance on the road making a loud noise with his rattle (udukkai). These gypsies are generally attired in a black coat like a sherwani often tattered and stitched at several places with dozens of small bits of clothes in different colours on their shoulders. They have a big red dot above a black line drawn with a khajal between the eyes. They generally sport a long moustache.

They follow the rattling with predictions of the events likely to befall some of the residents of the small street. The one today on the road invoked the names of Demi goddesses “Oh Jakkamma, Oh Makkali, Oh Bhagwati.” The couple fully awake trembled with fear as they heard the approaching kudukudupandi. They pretended, however, to be asleep with their eyes closed each wanting the other not to hear the forecast. Although afraid of any adverse tidings, they still could not resist the temptation to listen. They waited for him to approach their apartment. They sharpened their ears to listen to the predictions with rapt attention.

 As he came near the apartment complex, there was a brief silence followed by a long rattling of the rattle( udukkai) before making general statements of good times to come (Nalla kalam pirakkudhu) for the residents before turning to specifics. He said one prince would be born to a girl within a week, one man would turn a sanyasin and run away from the house and one death of a female would occur within three days in the vicinity. Usually, superstitious people were apprehensive of this tribe as what they said usually occurred.

Their lifestyle was shrouded in mystery and what they did during the day was unknown. It was believed they spent the nights in burial grounds doing occult practices to gain the skill to predict correctly. They usually come again after the day break and collect alms from the households. Most people out of fear that he would curse never refuse and even turn generous giving away old clothes besides rice and money.

Ramalingam and his wife unknown to each other listened to the prediction of the imminent death of a female. Both never spoke about it to the other though anxiety and fear were writ large on their faces. Ramalingam did puja that day for a longer period and went to a Ganesh temple nearby.

 The old lady knew her end was near but was unwilling to leave her husband alone. She knew his adamant nature and aversion to staying with sons. That night she heard dogs bark incessantly, not a good sign, as dogs have the power to see Yamadhuthas and ghosts. This accentuated her fear. Ramalingam made discreet enquiries about an old woman in the adjacent complex who was unwell with typhoid. To his dismay, he heard that she had recovered well. The second night Ramalingam’s wife had a dream of ugly and grotesque faces that were scary. She remembered her grandma saying that such faces appear before death signifying the awaiting hell. She also spent the day in silence and prayer  like her husband. In the evening, she gently told him that if anything were to happen to her, he must not stand on false prestige and live alone. He chided her asking her not to talk rubbish and that she would live longer than him. She fell silent thereafter.

It was the third night. Both could not sleep. He put his arm around her as they were sleeping. She snuggled close to him. There was an amalgam of apprehension love, concern, warmth, and gratitude in those moments. The night passed away smoothly with nothing untoward happening.

It was 6 am. A greatly relieved Ramalingam hurried to get milk from the milkman in the adjacent compound to make hot coffee for his dear wife. When he neared the shed, he heard a loud wail of the milkman’s wife and milkman. It transpired that one of the cows had died the previous night while giving delivery to a calf.

The nomad’s prediction has after all come true.

A journey that was too short (359 words)

After a hard day's work, I was returning to my room by the fast local. it would be 9 pm by the time I reached my place. As it would be too late to cook, I decided to have my dinner from the roadside 'Dhaba’. They make tasty food no doubt and at affordable rates though they recycle the used oil till it gets exhausted.

My parents were looking for a suitable match for me and the photos of a few they sent did not enthuse me. Though not aiming at a drop-down stunner, I was not prepared to settle for a plain looking Jane.

The train was crowded but I managed to secure a seat. Still, the oppressive humidity, the hot breaths of passengers close to me, and the body odour from their perspiration made the journey extremely uncomfortable. Just as I reached for my handkerchief to cover my nose, I turned to my right and what I saw made my heart skip a beat. Such beauty, such perfection in creation- no sight can be more captivating. I forgot my handkerchief but adjusted my sitting posture to enjoy an uninterrupted view for the rest of the journey.

There was a faint smile at the corner of her lips and her eyes twinkled as a stray strand of hair curled insouciantly on her forehead. She wore a sleeveless blouse and a thin yellow saree was draped carelessly over her chest and shoulder. I could tell she was looking at me from the corner of her eyes, her gaze unmistakable and unhidden. This emboldened me to gaze at her uninterrupted except for short breaks to avoid disapproving stares from other passengers at my crude ogling. I had four more stations to go and wished that the train travelled slower yearning to feel the slight touch of her skin.

When the train stopped at the next station, the passenger seated beside me abruptly stood up closing the glossy colourful fashion magazine that had featured her on the centre fold. In that instant, my dreamy interlude came to a sudden end and the nauseating odour started assailing my nose with a vengeance. 

The Unresolved Murder (951 words)

 

Sub Inspector Manoj sat morosely at his desk, his head cupped in his hands, with the prospects of his promotion looking doubtful.  His boss was upset and berated him on the phone for his inability to find any lead on the sensational murder that took place in his jurisdiction.

Despite his relentless efforts, there were no clues like when and where the murder took place, the whereabouts of the weapon and how the body was shifted brazenly with none noticing to his jurisdiction. The biggest hurdle was the dead man’s face was smashed beyond recognition and the body was left naked before a women’s college without anything on it. The media had gone to town when many of the college girls fainted at the horrifying sight of the mutilated body at the entrance of the college and the management reported the matter to the higher-ups in the police.

 The assembly was in session and the opposition lost no opportunity to berate the government for the dwindling law and order situation with this latest murder following a spate of murders in the city and the audacity of the murderer leaving a naked body at the women’s college premises. What can poor Manoj do when even the best brains cannot unravel without some hint or evidence to work upon? His boss was not interested in all these excuses but wanted SI to go out, and find more about the dead man, missing men and complaints if any in other police stations.SI was told that there was pressure from high quarters as the matter was in the headlines

It was then he saw a young man walking in through the swinging doors into his room with no constable announcing his coming in.

The young man stood before Manoj and said” I have come to tell you about the gruesome murder that took place with the body thrown at a college gate.”

Manoj found the man a bit unusual, pale in look, though three-dimensional without solidity about him. It looked as if he could pass his hand through him. A sudden chill passed through his spine.

Gathering himself he asked” What do you know about the murder? Who was the victim? Why was he killed and who killed him? Tell me your name and address first.”

“My name is Sudheer and I am the victim” the man uttered.

Manoj sat up with a start and rang the bell feverishly till a constable entered. Asking him to remain, he asked the young man before him,” Are you a mad man? I asked you who the murdered man was.”

“I understood Sir and answered you correctly. I am the murdered man. Please listen without interrupting me,” he replied

“I was in love with Mandira and we decided to marry despite the opposition from her parents and brothers. They are rich and powerful. I belong to a different caste and they would not allow her to marry me. She told them she would either marry me or remain a spinster. In fact, we had decided to elope. They must have got a scent of it when her mobile was lost by her. They had finalised someone rich from their community. Her brothers with the help of some hired killers killed me as I was proceeding in a two-wheeler ​on the outskirts of the city,” the man said

“I don’t know what to make of your statement. Can you name them? Can you also show me some evidence to nab them? I promise I will avenge your death as you have been God–sent to me when I was at my wit’s end. Can you show me the place of crime? You can come on my pillion,” Manoj said hurriedly.”

“I can travel on my own. Come on let us go,” said the figure

​Sudheer led Manoj to a desolate and dark area about 40 miles away from the city​. ​​The area ​was surrounded by trees a little away from the highway. The man stopped near a very large and deep well and said,” They threw the sickle and the iron rod with which they murdered me in the well and pushed my two-wheeler also in it. Come with me to the tree here and see for yourself. Here they dashed my head against the tree before killing me​.”

The SI saw evidence of blood with hairs sticking on the bark of the tree. The forensic department was called​ immediately and it appeared to SI that the case against Mandira’s brothers and father was all sewed up watertight when they found the murder weapon and the two-wheeler.

Manoj was in high spirits about cracking what appeared to be an unsolvable crime. The SP who was initially jubilant became lukewarm when the girl's parents met him at his residence and discussed the matter. Not much was known about what happened in the background except that Manoj​ found the initial happy demeanour of the boss changed soon after a quiet meeting with Mandira’s parents.​

He soon found himself transferred​ to a god-forsaken place. The two-wheeler unearthed from the well, it was announced had no number plate, the engine number illegible and the identity of the dead person could not be established. Mandira’s lover​, it was mentioned​, had ditched her and ran away when rebuked by the girl’s brothers leaving no clues about his whereabouts.

The frustrated Manoj had reason for some small comfort when he heard after two months that his earlier boss the SP had gone insane after what people ascribed to a ghost hounding him as he was always seen staring at vacant spaces and screaming in fear, “Go away. Go away. Don’t harm me. Don’t scare me​."

 

 

Doubting God (1289 words)

 

Roopa Ghosh wound through the crowded roads in a three-wheeler. She had just 30 minutes to reach Chittaranjan Park for her appointment at 4 pm. Had she known the previous day she would have been well prepared. Only when she reached her office at 2 pm, she found a slip on her desk from the Editor. It read

” Mr. Nakul Goswami, the celebrated author, has agreed to give an interview at 4 PM today. Meet him at 24, RT road, CR Park sharp at the appointed time. Carry slips of paper for questions and answers as he is deaf-mute. His latest book Doubting God has already become a best seller for the year and a heated topic for discussion in literary circles. Can I have your report the day after tomorrow? I wish to carry it in this weekend's edition. Cheers, Som”

She knew this book was popular and much in demand though it is on her shelfari under books to be read. She quickly ran through Wikipedia and the internet to learn about the man, his background and his literary output. She read some rave reviews and jotted down some points in her diary. There was a tinge of envy when she found he was just 34, already famous as a writer with a few more books in the pipeline, and possibly already wealthy. She looked at the mirror, had a small touch-up, applied lipstick and sprayed gentle perfume. She did not want to look like a sun-beaten reporter with a hoarse voice and dishevelled hair.

She rang the bell a minute before 4 pm and was ushered into the study where Nakul Goswami was waiting for her. She greeted him with folded hands and he reciprocated by extending his arm. She shook his hands warmly. Both smiled at each other without a word. There was a twinkle in his eyes and looked younger for his age and was very handsome. The hair was slightly receding but it only enhanced his charm. He sat opposite her at the mahogany table in the spacious well-furnished air-conditioned room. They kept silent momentarily when Roopa scribbled her question in a slip.

“I am Roopa Ghosh from Bharat Times. I am fortunate to meet a celebrated author for the first time. I visualised a serious-looking person and am pleasantly surprised to see a young man who has achieved so much at this young age. I have read enough about you though I must confess I have not read your latest book Doubting God. I will do it within the next two days. My interview will not be about the book but more about you, your life and your motivations” She handed over the slip and kept the bunch of slips on the table under a paperweight.

He read it and laughed aloud. He wrote” You have a sweet name and an apt one too. I was actually looking for a middle-aged guy with three days stubble and not a young lady. Before we start tell me what will you have, tea or fruit juice?” and gave the slip.

She signalled a no with a wave of her hand but he ignored her and rang the bell.”I appreciate your honesty in telling me you have not read my book. Tell me about you before we proceed with the interview. How long have you been with this daily? You look in your early twenties. Where are your parents? What is your goal in life?”

“I am not that young and am 27. I live in Moti Bagh with my parents. My dad is a government official. I graduated with a degree in English literature and a degree in Journalism. I have been with this daily for nearly two years and wish to be a writer like you. Can I now start asking you questions?”

“Wow! We are birds of the same feather, a writer and a budding writer. We are both Bengalis too, he he. Okay, shoot your questions”

‘Born in a Bengali family where Maa Kali is held in great reverence, the title of your book Doubting God is intriguing. Are you not a believer?”

“Good question. My mother is a very pious lady doing all pujas and observing rituals. My dad is also a devotee but not very demonstrative. Much to my mom’s disappointment, I am an agnostic. I don’t interfere with her beliefs and gladly eat the sweet prasad she makes. Maybe when I grow old I may change or may not. I do not discuss this with others though the book is about an agnostic converted later by his lover. I am sure you must be a great devotee of Goddess Durga.”

“Yes, I am very pious and pray twice daily. Now coming to your writing, you are already an icon among the youngsters after the release of this best seller. What were the motivations of taking up such a theme? Can I say that it sounds like autobiographical after knowing your beliefs?”

“It is simply like this. I do not know whether God exists or not. I am not sure like others. So, this unsureness is unconsciously reflected in the story when I write. It is a theme that is known to me and has been discussed in the novel. As in all novels, there is a woman in it and inevitably a romance. I wished for a happy ending making the agnostic succumb to her persuasions. Of course, she could not prove the existence of god but he found it comforting to agree with his beloved. Please note he is not an atheist who refuses to believe in God but only professes his lack of knowledge about the existence of God”

“Do you mean an agnostic is a cowardly or a weak atheist vulnerable to romantic persuasions?”

“Haha, I think love is a powerful emotion. Won’t you agree?”

“I have no idea. I have had no lover” she laughed and he joined her

Meanwhile, the help brought a tray full of Sandesh, rosagollla and singharas with tea

They talked for quite some time through the slips of course about the initial difficulties in publishing a book, the disappointments of rejections, the unexpected break and finally when the book is out the tremendous response from readers. They talked about the publishers who initially rejected making a beeline with new offers once the fame and sales were established.

“Do you have any plans to write a novel?” he asked

“I wish to but do not know how to start it. My mind gets blank”

“Make a storyline for some 15 chapters and bring it to me. We shall discuss and refine them. You can then start writing. I am willing to help you” he said

“I your kindness touches me. I will consider it seriously. Thanks for the interview. It is nearing 7 pm.I must rush back” she wrote on the slip

He came up to the door, shook hands with her lingering a tad longer than usual and profusely thanked her.

On the second day, a messenger brought an envelope containing a draft of the interview and a small note from the Editor.

“Dear Mr. Nakul Goswami,

Please see the draft enclosed. It is written excellently by Roopa. If you wish to modify it, you can make the corrections. My office boy will come to collect tomorrow.

Incidentally, Roopa is all praise for you and thanks you for the courtesy shown to her. She told me about her plans to meet you soon but she did not reveal the purpose. I do not know whether you have observed that she is also a deaf-mute but she is one of our best reporters.

With best wishes and regards, 

Som”

 

A Suitor in a Swanky car (916 words)

The swanky car screeched to a halt. Swarna turned to see a young man with dark glasses on the wheel. She had been standing alone at the wretched bus stop that had no shelter for 40 minutes. The sky was overcast with dark clouds getting darker and threatening to break into rain any moment.

“Can I drop you at the first auto stand? It will start raining any moment and there is no shelter. You can get in if it is ok for you,” he said

She was hesitant initially but when he opened the front door and she saw no other male occupants, she got in. He did not talk much but dropped her at the nearest auto stand. He waited till she boarded one before he drove away even before she could thank him. He seemed decent.

Three days later the car again stopped and she was dropped. What started as once or twice a week soon became almost a daily ritual. They became friends. Vikas came in different vehicles. He told her he was the son of a rich businessman with a management degree and was planning to expand his own business. A pleasant, engaging conversationalist, he won her heart quickly. She was drawn from middle-class circumstances and worked in a private company. Their friendship blossomed into love and they started meeting on weekends. Swarna found him a cultured and nice chap. Nevertheless, he pressured her to accompany him to a resort for a weekend. She firmly refused saying that it had to wait till they wed each other.

It was a Sunday and she had an unexpected visit by her college friend Akila. They were close buddies but hardly met after Akila’s marriage. They had lunch together and had a long chat in her room.

“Akila, I have news to confide in you. I am in love with a guy and we have been meeting regularly. He wants to carry forward the relationship to the next level and I have been restraining him. I told him that my parents would formally approach his parents,” Swarna said

“I am so happy, Swarna. I hope he is qualified and employed well. What is his background?”

“They are very affluent and that is one thing that is bothering me. His dad has a big business and he comes in different cars. Vikas is a management graduate wanting to enlarge his own business” Swarna said.” Here is his picture. Have a look. Isn’t he very handsome?” she asked.

“Yes, he is quite good-looking. But his face is very familiar. I have seen him somewhere and recently too. Do you have any other pictures?” Akila asked

When Swarna handed her a bunch of pictures of Vikas in different cars, Akila said, “Swarna, brace yourself for a shock. This guy is a mechanic in a reputed and big automobile shop. Look at this picture. This car is ours, and we had given it for a major overhaul and service. I think he is a big liar and a crook. Tomorrow, take a day off. I will come in my car. I will take you to the workshop and expose that rascal.”

The next day as the car stopped at the large automobile workshop with many cars, Akila got down telling Swarna to stay inside the tinted glass doors. After some time she whispered “Your man is coming towards us. Just lower the glass slightly and see whether he is the guy.”

In a few minutes, Swarna heard Vikas’s voice and saw him in worker’s blue overall. He asked Akila as he quickly surveyed the car,” Yes ma’am, what can we do for you?”

“I get some humming sound. By the way what is your good name?” asked Akila.

“Vikas, Vikas Menon to be exact,” he said

Immediately the door opened and out came Swarna. Her face was red with anger and disappointment. “So, you are a mechanic in this workshop and take daily the cars that are left here with you. Why did you lie to me that you are a management graduate and come from a rich family? I would have loved you even if you were a mechanic had you been truthful. You are a cheater, a liar and a crook. I curse the day I met you” she shouted and started weeping inconsolably.

“Swarna, don’t come to rash conclusions. Let us go inside the office and talk. People are watching” he softly said

“No, I don’t wish to listen to your falsehoods anymore. Akila, let us go,” she shouted.

Akila said” No, let us hear him. Come along with me.”

Vikas took them to a spacious air-conditioned room in the office and offered them the chairs. He sat before them in the richly upholstered chair. Both were surprised. He pressed the ball and a boy in blue overall entered and saluted him.

” Get some cold drink. It is hot today”

He looked sharply at Swarna and said “I am proud to be a worker and work along with my employees. I wish to learn the nuts and bolts of the job even though I am the owner. I test the car after they are serviced. Turn behind and see the picture. You can see me welcoming the Governor who inaugurated this shop. I dislike rash girls generally but you had a genuine reason. I must thank your friend for bringing you here.”

Swarna with her face bent down said feebly “I am sorry, Vikas.”

In search of a darshan (799 words)

(When a good friend asked me recently if I had any connection at a famous temple for quick darshan. it reminded me of  an old story about finding God easily outside the temple precincts.)

The temple was crowded being an auspicious day. Long queues of devotees were seen before every sanctum with the longest moving at a snail’s pace before the presiding Deity’s shrine. There were pilgrims with families moving around the corridors of the sprawling temple gaping at everything they espied, the swaying elephant eating coconut leaves, the big chariot used to take the gods around the temple and many little idols that dotted around. Outside the temple precincts, shops selling flowers and other offerings like coconuts, betel leaves, plantain fruits etc were busy making money. On both sides of the passage leading to the temple, beggars, mendicants, sick men and women along with children were begging the people for alms making noise with begging bowls or pleading in pitiable tones.

It was then a big gleaming car came to a halt at the entrance. A portly figure clad in silk dhoti and angavastram alighted from the car. With prominent ash marks and bindi on his forehead, Arunachalam, with a bulging tummy evoked instant awe and respect. There was a momentary silence from the beggars before they started shouting for alms. He ignored them despite their persistent pleadings. Arunachalam looked around the vast crowd even at the entrance. Someone made a gratuitous remark that the queues are very long and it would take hours to get a glimpse of God. Arunachalam, a diabetic, decided that he could not stand in the queue for that long in the hot sun.

 When he turned to return home, one man clad in khaki looking like an employee of the temple came near Arunachalam and whispered “I can easily facilitate a darshan within 30 minutes and it would cost 500 rupees. Many have to be taken care of and today being a festival day, the rate is a bit high.”

 When Arunachalam pondered over the wisdom of parting with the money with a stranger, the man as if he read his mind said “Please do not worry. This is a temple. You can trust me. I have already taken six pilgrims inside.”

He watched the beggars looking at him strangely and curiously. He decided to take a chance as he did not want to miss having a darshan on this special day especially when he planned to commence a new business venture the next week. The man collected the money and requested him to wait for just ten minutes for him to arrange the visit.

 Fifteen minutes passed and there was no sign of the man. He felt thirsty and had a coke. He was getting impatient and started feeling that he had been taken for a ride. It was nearly an hour and the man had not yet appeared.

It was then one beggar woman said “Sami (sir), that fellow is a cheat. He does this daily. He will not come. We could not openly caution you as he would beat us. He is a local rowdy. The police also know. He has a few others working for him.”

“Oh, oh I suspected after parting with the money. I trusted him because of my intense desire to have a darshan. Let me return without waiting anymore,” he said

The beggars pleaded pitiably in chorus for some alms. It was pathetic to see them cry hoarse at every passerby only to be ignored. He told them, “Please wait. Do not worry as I am not like that man. I will be back within a few minutes.”

The beggars saw him cross the road and not towards his vehicle. He was back in ten minutes and asked them “You must all sit in a row on both sides and wait for your turn without making any noise. No one will be left out, I assure you.”

He waited for a couple of minutes for them to settle down and gave a ten rupee note to each of the adult beggars and a five rupee note to each child. When he had completed the distribution, he asked whether anyone was left out, one little girl said “Give ten rupees to that samiyar (spiritual mendicant) in ochre robes in that corner. He will neither  sit with us nor ask but would remain silent and hungry.”

Arunachalam went to him and handed over two ten-rupee notes and the mendicant in turn smilingly handed over one note to that girl. Arunachalam saw all the beggars in folded hands smiling at him with satisfaction. He rejoiced at their happy faces and did not feel disappointed for the missed darshan of God inside.

When Arunachalam entered his house, his wife asked him whether he had a good darshan of God and was happy.

 He replied to the confused bewilderment of his wife, “Yes, not one god but several gods in all their smiles.”